


The Damned and The Courageous

by Percivianne



Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Gunshot Wounds, Gunshots, How Do I Tag, Light Angst, Morons, Organized Crime, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, the lot of them
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:01:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25766383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Percivianne/pseuds/Percivianne
Summary: (Characters and Tags to be added.)Two groups' paths must cross, a fate is secured.No one is truly in the right,Death is death, loss is loss.Death doesn't descriminate,yet people never fail to.“Listen,” She turned to him, her cigarette twirling in her fingers. “All our sins are the same, whether we are killing innocents or killing criminals.”“There is only one glaring difference, and the difference is we're cleaning up the weeds killing the flowers.” Her eyes narrowed at him, her lips emitting a low chuckle “A little flower has no right to call herself a gardener, but tell me.”“when a patch of flowers die, will there be seeds willing to take its place?”
Relationships: Charlie/Maxwell (Don't Starve), William Carter/Charlie (Don't Starve), Willow/Wilson (Don't Starve)
Kudos: 7





	The Damned and The Courageous

3rd Person POV

The building was ablaze, its light reflecting in her eyes. Willow stood to the side, her face a saddened façade, an act. She smiled internally at the beautiful fire, the bright glow and the warmth it gave off.

‘I'd love to stand in it,’ She thought, the frown upon her face deepening as the sirens roared through the air, they were on their way to kill her fire. ‘But my job is done.’

She covered her mouth with a towel, putting up a weakened expression, she must act. She cannot afford to be seen as suspicious, not again. She'd fished her  
phone out of her pocket, dialed and waited.

The ringing in her ear is anxious, even if there's nothing to be worried about. Chills ran down her spine as the ringing continued, she swallowed a lump in her throat as thoughts swarmed through her mostly observant head. The sirens ringing, screams of fear and terror wracked through her body, she felt like throwing up.

The ringing got worse, the sirens got louder. The sound of the flames dying made her shake to her core. Time seemingly slowed–had stopped around her.

Images of a life she'd left behind flashed before her.

She didn't want to be caught, not now, not again. No no n—

A sudden click, “Willow-” and a screeching of car tires snapped her out of her trance.

Her head snapped up, beads of sweat rolling down her forehead as time seemingly resumed. 

A few feet away, a taxi was parked. Her eyes wandered to the drivers window, rolling down to reveal a familiar face she'd never been happier to see.

“Hey,” His voice rang through the phone and resonated with her, a sense of comfort settling in her stiffened bones. A smile formed on the man's face, his voice doubling as she approached the vehicle. “Come on, love, let's get you out of here.”

She shot him a smile as she ran around the car, finding herself sitting in the passenger seat, the door slammed shut behind her as she buckled her seatbelt. She sighed in relief, her back slouching into the seat as a sudden jolt emitted a low growl from her driver, his foot stomped on the gas.

“Were you up to something Wilson?” Willow asked, having thrown her bag into the back. Her amber eyes focused themselves on his rear view mirror, a couple of black cars closed up on them, she pulled on her gloves. Her eyes narrowed in amusement as she shot him a questioning glance “My turn to drive or-?”

Another jolt, “I'll take them on,” he stated, and pulled out his hand gun, his stratospheric blue eyes meeting bright amber ones. “Keep your eyes on the road and no matter what you hear, don't hit the breaks.”

She nodded and unbuckled her seat belt, her place now in the driver's seat, and him now in the passenger's, preparing to open the door. He

They nodded at each other, a single bittersweet thought in their minds.

‘Let the Adrenaline Rush begin.’

Wilson swung the door open, the air blowing past him. His grip on the gun tightened as a bullet cracked the rear window, shooting past Willow's head. He bit his lip harshly as he aimed, his eyes calculating. Bullets flew past him, a couple hitting him in the shoulder, he growled. He fired. Gunshots the only sound he can make out as he fired straight into their pursuer's windshields. His shots were precise, but it wasn't enough.

more bullets went pelting closer to him, a couple hitting him in the shoulder. He glared at the cars, at the injured drivers that just won't die.

He aimed, his glare calculating and thoughtful. He aimed straight into the head of the driver closing in, he pulled the trigger.

The last gunshot was had, the bullet straight into the head of the first driver. Wilson smiled to himself, as the two crashed cars burst into flames.

He pulled himself back into the car and shut the now damaged door behind him, he slouched into the chair. He panted, breath hitching as he made a vain attempt to stabilize his breathing.

“Wil-Willow,” he breathed out, his vision becoming spotty as he attempted to familiarize with the surroundings. “Where are we headed?”

“Home.” Straight sweet and to the point, that woman.He smiled with all that he could at her, he could never ask for a better partner in crime.

“Wilson,” Her flutey voice, strict and commanding; worry underlying the expression on her face. “You know this as fucking well as I do Wils, Do not close your eyes.”

“Please don't fucking close your eyes.” she repeated, her commanding tone wavered into a more panicked, anxious plea.

He smiled a crooked smile at her, the warm feeling of blood continued to spread through his torso. Comforting, in a sense that it's like a blanket, lulling you into its warmth, he pinched himself.

‘Stay awake, stay awake.’ A Voice repeated, sounding much like him yet,  
A bit more panicked.

His surroundings, from a janky and messed up car faded into a more pristine hospital room. He found himself kneeling and staring down at a woman, whose face was drained of color. 

His eyes widened as everything shifted to grey, from the flowers, to the sky. Everything was a shade of grey

But not the warm blood on his shaking, gloved hands, not the blood that stained his once pristine white shirt, not the pool of crimson on the floor that pooled around them

And most definitely not the shirt the woman wore.

He felt his heart beating out of his chest, pain shot up his frame as white noise enveloped him. Ringing, it was endless. He gripped his head in his blood stained hands, pulling at tufts of his hair as whispers and white noise slowly drove him to insanity.

He forced out a scream, yet nothing came of it. His mouth hung open, empty with words to say, empty of a voice he was sure he had. 

He froze in place as a warm liquid dripped down on his ever calculating head. It was a dribble of water at first, slowly ascending in intensity to blood coming down as a storm.

What once was just a puddle of blood, now a pool of it as the lady's corpse was swallowed by the crimson. He attempted to move, to stand up as not not meet the same fate as the woman's corpse.

Yet he couldn't even blink.

The pool of crimson rose, it was up to his shoulders now. The metallic scent of blood filled him, a panic etched into his tired features as his reflection in the crimson was not his own.

The Monster stared back at him, its mouth shaped into a shit-eating grin, its faint features and hair resembling a bit his own. The blood rose again, now up to his neck.

The Monster in his reflection rose with it.

It looked human, but Wilson was sure it wasn't one. Its hair resembled an inky black fire, its sclera a pitch black with white pin-pricks for pupils, it wore a rosewood red suit with a white tie 

And had the young woman he was kneeling next to in its arms. 

Her skin tone was cold, harsh. Her face almost as lifeless as he remembered before it was covered in deep crimson. His mouth opened, as useless as he knew the attempt was, he had to try to tell it to let her go.

“What pathetic attempts at being a hero.” It chuckled darkly, holding the woman in its arms closer. “You can't even recall her name.”

To the chin that's where the blood was up to now. Wilson's expression grew impossibly more frightened, panicked as the monster laughed, holding the woman's face closer to its own.

From where he was at, he was sure it would devour her. Eat her body, limb from limb and make him watch helplessly.

Show him how he failed to save a woman he can't even recall

Suddenly, hands formed out of blood rose from the pool, taking the woman from The Monster and holding her up as if she were alive and standing.

Voiceless and stuck, he could only watch as the Monster –almost tenderly– brushed a stray strand of dark auburn hair from Her face, leaning in close as if to mimic a kiss lovers would share.

Yet It stopped before cold marble lips came into contact with its own, seemingly frustrated, upset and grieving. It sighed, pulling back as the crimson hands pulled the body back down into the pool.

A wave of dread passed him as he felt the lower half of his face grow warm.

The bridge of his nose that's where the blood was at now and he was drowning in it before he even realized he was doing so. The liquid unconsciously and uncontrollably being pumped into his lungs; he couldn't breathe, cough or even clear his throat. His mouth tasted of copper, his lungs slowly giving out.

He stared upon his Monster, his vision blurring. It looked pleased, yet unsatisfied; leaving a final, cryptic message.

“Your Rise will also be your Fall.”

The world fell into darkness.


End file.
